My school was on lockdown last Thursday. At recess, 12 shots rang out; we shuttled the children inside and declared a school emergency. Half my students suddenly had to pee. I couldn’t let them go; all doors shut — no movement. Our security guard stopped by each room to announce the danger.
Then, we kept teaching.
The week after Sandy Hook, I’d had nightmares about places I could hide my students if a shooter came — they’re little, so I could put them in closets or drawers, I could stand outside the door and try to talk the guy down, I could dial 911 behind my back — but that’s not what our lockdown ended up like.